


But Appear To Be The Devil....

by TheFirstRule (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes is not necessarily a good person, Dark, Drug Use, Get it...Instead of let's kill Hitler, Homophobia, Hydra (Marvel), Kinda CACW compliant, Let's kill HYDRA, M/M, Manipulation, Natasha is to smart for everyone's bullshit, Nazis, Not A Bad Person, On the Run, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Racism, Sexual Content, Steve is not a Nazi, Torture, eventually, he's trying okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheFirstRule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it looked like Steve betrayed them to Hydra, Buck kinda went off the rails a little bit. It was probably the only reason they ever found Steve. Its also the reason they're currently running for their lives from.....everyone. Now Captain America is an internationally wanted man. Steve Rodgers is a mess. The Winter Soldier is still on a bloody crazy revenge trip. Bucky Barns is headed down some kinda dark road. And dammed if Sam didn't let himself be dragged right into the middle of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So my other story is not in any way abandoned. My computer has been broken for months and I just got a new one. I could write on my tablet but not publish. The tablets "spell check" made it impossible to edit. So I have lots of things written and and it will be published as fast as I get it edited. 
> 
> So by the end this story will have quite a few warnings. If I forget to tag any please tell me. I always try to research whatever I'm writing but without first hand experience there's always things you can't know. 
> 
> This fic came out of the "Steve is a Nazi." thing and my need to correct it. Its kinda takes place in the MCU but its not really cannon compliant. I like to pretend Age Of Ultron never happened. And while I took elements from Civil War a lot of stuff is different.

      HYDRA had the Asset on a lot of drugs. People didn't tend to guess this, he didn't know why it seem stupid not to. In lot of HYDRA especially the people doing field work it was 10:30, 24/7. All sorts of experimental shit designed to do everything for keep a person functional for weeks to new and improved truth serums. Some of it hit the streets. But most of it just kinda got passed around certain HYDRA circles. And he hand his own special cocktail just for him. No one ever figured out exactly what but whatever it was it was addictive as hell. For the first couple months while Bucky was on the streets he'd hit the crystal pretty hard as a substitute. Got real strung out. He tried to stop when he started seeing shit. But seeing shit wasn't exactly new so that lasted about two weeks. Then he tried again when he woke up naked in an ally with no memory. _Shit man you manage to lose all your cloths and you can even pick up a pretty dame?_ But because he swore he had himself under control now. And this just pissed him off. He made it stick. 

      After Steve had turned out to be HYDRA he'd found himself in a shit covered bathroom, walls rusting up and down, with a needle again. Actually first he went on a rampage. But 28 dead Nazis, two blown up bases, and a hacked computer later, they're wasn't really any doubt. Steve was HYDRA and had been all along. Steve who he had fucking defended sense he was seven. Who had defended him through a blood soaked war. Traded rough desperate kisses in a battlefield tent that turned slow and passionate when they had the time. Steve had been the reason he got his mind back. But maybe that had just been part of their plan too. Had Steve known? 70 years while those motherfuckers tortured Bucky and used him as a weapon. Had he just let it happen? 

     But really that was selfish. It didn't matter. He was part of an organization determined to install slavery through fear. Hurt people until their begging you to take control. Kill. Take their freedoms. Take their minds. Once people were scared enough and in enough pain didn't matter what you did as long as you promised you could make the pain stop.  _Well,_ he thought, _guess they fucking won._ And slid the needle into his arm. 

     Natasha found him first. Which surprised him more than it should have. After all the Asset had helped train her and he was tripping balls. He yelled. Stupid shit about how she had no right to judge what he was going through. How he was better on the drugs and she was a dumb bitch. How HYDRA "took Steve away." She just let him shout. He wasn't sure how long passed before they put him in a car and took him back to the tower. But he was pretty sure Widow managed to dose him with some other shit. Because he was feeling really out of it and was kinda to tired to care.

      Once he woke back up in medical in the Avengers tower they offered to help him come down slow. He refused. He was fucking pissed at himself for doing this shit again ( _Nice going Barns you pathetic addicted piece of crap. Still need someone to take care of you.)_   He was going cold turkey as fast as possible. So it was lying in a pool of his own vomit, shaking to hard to move, that he swore to himself he was gonna tear HYDRA apart.. One way or the other Rodgers was  fucked up even if he couldn't see it. Even Steve's so called love, although he was pretty sure that has been fake to, didn't earn him anything if he was with those fucking psychopaths. _He remembers a classroom full of kids. Fucking  blowing them away with a sub-machine gun. He remembers shooting a women's knee out so she couldn't run. Shit, she begged them to stop, a cut up bloody mess._  HYDRA was gonna burn. Even if he had to burn the world with it. 

********

    Sam looked at one of the bodies on the ground. The shoulder was dislocated and leg bent at unnatural angle. Throat slit wide open. After Cap had.... left, Buck.... The Winter Solider had taken over unofficial team leadership in his stead. Just kinda started giving orders after they peeled him off the ground. And they would follow him anywhere. All of them loved him like a brother. But this.... this wasn't tactical. This was the kind of killing you did out of rage. And this has been the last two months of the fucking suicide run they were on. Killing their way across North America. 

     Screams echoed down the concrete hallway. Sam just leaned against the wall throwing worried glances at everyone else. Clint, Natasha, and Banner. Had it been any other circumstances this things would have never have gotten this far. Or past the first time Bucky marched into the living room declaring they where gonna go storm the castle. But they'd all been angry, betrayed, grieving. Sense then they'd barely stopped to breath. Crashing a sleazy motel rooms between missions and passing out exhausted in the back of the car during the ride from target to target. 

      That guy had been alone in there with The Winter Solider for a solid 20 min now. Sam was grudgingly impressed. He'd seen how far off the reservation they were all getting. And he'd tried to help. But you can't help someone who doesn't want it. Especially if that's someone is a couple of Russia super solders and an assassin. And dammed if he hadn't let himself get dragged right into the middle. The door opened but the screaming didn't stop. Barns dragged the man by one leg though the joint in the knee was dislocated, and dropped him down in front of the rest of them. 

       "That was almost 20 min. You loosing your edge Winter?" Romanov Joked.

       "Tell them what you told me darlin." Barns crouched down and pressed a knife to the man's throat. "But see I ain't sure your tellin the truth. And when I find your lying I'm gonna make this look like a good dammed slumber party. Got it?."

        


	2. Don't you pray for my soul.

**_Brooklyn - 1930_ **

    13 year old Bucky Barns sat huddled and shivering in the corner. The warehouse was leaking everywhere rain pouring in along with scant amounts of light from the street lamps. Despite this the smell of rust still managed to drift weakly through the building. Now mostly covered with cigarette smoke form its inhabitants. 

       "Kids got a pair on him ehh?" 

       "Look at the little fucker he's shaken like a leaf." 

       "Yea, when's the last time you saw that much blood?" 

       "I don't care who he killed or how he killed them. The kids gotta go." 

       "Na man wait till the boss gets here. You'll see. Hell love this kid. I'm tellin ya hes got a soft spot for the street rats." 

      Bucky almost objected that he wasn't a street rat. Something clever curling on the tip of his tongue. Then thought better of it. He didn't know how long he sat there for. Just kinda staring at the wall. Tying to ignore the gears and taunts of the two men. Most weren't particularly aimed at him. Until to doors finally swung open. 3 more men paraded in, yelling crude drunken banter.

      A beer bottle flew at him  "Get up you pathetic scrap."  One of the fist two shouted and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Bracing against the wall to steady himself. "Sir, boss, this here kid. This here kid. He just killed the manager down at the docks. Did it fuckin brutal two. I ain't never seen nothin like it. His head...." The man doubled over into a laugh. "His head popped clean off. I mean it was just normal.... well normalish one minute then the...." The man's drunken ranting continued but Bucky had stopped listening. The boss man was staring at him now. Drunken gaze unfocused but still calculating.  

     "I bet this little street rat knows a thing about stealing, don't you."

      What was the right answer to that? "Yes sir." It didn't come out as confident as he wanted. 

     "Tell you what. You steal for us and you got yourself a job. Would you like that?" He was talking real gentle like Bucky was an easily startled cat. But the question was so condescending, sarcastic It seemed pretty obvious he didn't have a choice. Even so with a little extra money he could feed his sisters, his ma. He could help pay for Steve's meds. Maybe he could even buy that new jacket he'd been wanting. 

    "Well my pa always told me, never turn down good money." 

    "Alright you little shit. Come back here at 8 o'clock sharp. We'll pay you a portion for what you bring. You bring us enough you get the part. of not...." He trailed off and shrugged. 

    Barns gave a shaky nod and the man lunged at him. Stopping at least a foot short of actually hitting, but he still jumped. The man stumbled with laughter. Nearly hitting him again as he swayed around drunkenly. He bolted for the door. Not stopping until he hit that imagined line that separated one neighborhood from the next. He didn't really have a choice now did he. These kind of people....No one said no to them. Yea sure they weren't god. They where just like everyone else. Just happened to have a lot of money and a lot of power.  _Well its the same fucking difference now ain't it._

    Leaning against a wall to catch his breath Buck took in where he was. It was still dark for a couple more hours and the air was bitter cold. No snow, no rain, just cold. The wind ripped through his light jacket and he grit his teeth to keep them from trembling. Eyeing the closed shop across the street. It was a tailor shop. All sorts of expensive fabrics hanging around....and it looked warm. He grinned, _Now to stealin things._

    Ya sure, stealing was wrong. All your teachers and your parents said that all the time. But it was just talking. In Brooklyn no one thought about a thing like morality before they did somethin. ( Except for Steve for some stupid reason. ) Stealing was just a part of life. He'd stolen plenty of things. Lots of people stole all the time. He could to. So the only passing thought about it he had - probably only because of Steve - was,  _Hell I just killed a man tonight. B ~~utitwasinselfdefence~~ (Don't think about it). I'd say my moral compass is already fucked. _  

    The next morning Bucky showed back up at the warehouse. One guy was there waiting for him. "Hell. William owes me a dollar. He didn't think you'd show up."  

    Then he got to ride in a car. An actual fucking car! The house was god dammed fancy to. Three stories everything immaculately cleaned. Paintings covered the walls. At least three of the rooms had pianos. Which seemed pointless. Three, really!? They dragged him into a room on the second floor where a skinny man took stock of the cart of things he'd brought. Then shoved a pile of cash into his hand and nodded at his escort. 

    The workshop floor was covered to keep stray blood from staining. The desk littered with needles and ink. An artist shoved him down in the chair and grabbed his right arm. Pinning it firmly in place as he started the design. "Whats your name kid?" 

   "James Barnes." 

   "We'll James Barnes," It was a little mocking "I'm Frank." 

   Barns gave him the dirtiest look he could pull. Which wasn't hard with a tattoo needle going in and out of his arm. 

   "Oh yea." Frank sighed. "You'll fit right in here." 

* * *

 

**_Rotterdam - 2017_ **

**** Buck walked out of the kitchen eating a box of left over fried chicken. Undercut hair pulled back at the top. Walking barefoot around the house in a simple t-shirt and jeans. He almost looked normal. The arm- _His arm_  had been replaced months ago by Stark. The new one was black vibranium. Stronger, lighter. Of course Tony couldn't resist the upgrades. It was outfitted with as much tech as the Iron Man suit. Barns had actually had to talk him out of a few things. 

     Natasha glanced up from her book as he flopped down on the couch. "How long do we have to keep him under for." 

     "Two weeks until the programming starts to ware off. After that he'll have to be conscious to remember." It was exactly 1:37 when they'd finally stumbled into the safe house last night. After a seven hour drive. Thor, Bruce, Clint, and Tony had headed back to the Avengers Tower. They weren't wanted on American soil for anything. The rest of them....There was a reason they'd refused to let Wanda come. Barns had dosed Steve up with more of the tranquilizer they'd used during the ride, dumped him in bed, and slammed the door to the only bathroom without any explanation. They hadn't stopped on the way here. Still covered in day old blood piss and shit Nat had banged on the door with a varying range of worry and frustration.  

     After 15 min she was about to just break the door down. It didn't open but she finally got, "Can I help you doll." 

     "Yeah you can let the rest of us use the god dammed shower." Any other time a statement like that might be handing him ammo on a silver platter.  _You sayin you want to share darlin._ But not tonight. 

     "Fine, fine." The door opened and he leaned against it tying a towel around his waist. "Jeez worse than my old drill Sargent." 

     "You know I am." She shoved him out of the way locking the door out of nothing other than habit. But, she though distantly, it kinda added to effect. 

     Sam was already passed out on the couch, mostly. He looked like he was trying to get up, mumbling something incomprehensible. Barns walked over and placed a hand on his arm. "Hey buddy you'll feel better in the morning." His shoulders slouched down, sleep taking him where he was still blissfully unconscious on the other couch. Usually the slightest thing would wake him. But he'd slept through them eating, and talking. 

     James hadn't slept a minute in the last four days and he knew it was starting to show on his face. They'd been on mission up until now, he'd had an excuse. But function hadn't been compromised. Besides it wasn't like it had gotten bad yet.  _Odds are the body will sleep before motor function and processing are seriously impaired._ Actually odds where he wouldn't. It took about three weeks before his body would force him to sleep. That was plenty of time to get plenty irrational. Not that he'd ever admit that to himself. Besides he was already irrational. If he got a little sleep deprived well that was just the icing on the cake. One more prop to sell the act in the James Barns show.  _The Winter Soldier. The ultimate psycho killer lady's and gentlemen._ _Wait....Wait....Loki might have something on him. After all who knew how long Loki had been alive._ He laughed lightly at the thought as he scrolled threw the movie collection. Natasha gave him an odd look. 

     "Everything alright there Barns?" 

     "Just peachy." The sarcasm rolled off his tongue and Nat went back to her book. She knew when not to push him. Of course he wasn't alright. Steve haddnt betrayed any of them. The bottom levels of that base haddnt been a weapons factory it'd been a lab. They'd been growing clones. Or trying too. He'd sorted through most of the data on the way to the safe house. Matched with what they'd seen, the process haddnt been perfected and some of the experiments had started to morph. Some like the Red Skull. Some with there bones and skin growing wrong sticking out of them as they tried to rip out of there own bodies like the possessed. Some of them almost worked but the growth process couldn't be slowed down enough. You had a working super soldier for 4 weeks, maybe 5. Then the cells would start to age rapidly and cannibalize themselves as the serum tried to stop it from happening. 

     Then they'd found Steve. Alone locked in a separate cell. It was really him they'd ran blood tests to confirm it. But it wasn't him. He haddnt remembered any of them. James had already known but then they'd found the cryo tank, the chair. Sam had started backing up real slow clearly expecting him to lash out. But instead he'd just shut down. Retreating into that part of his mind that was a howling void HYDRA had created. It still functioned. Eat, sleep, get dressed, plant bombs, all that jazz. But there was no one home behind the machine. Somewhere around the German border he'd come back to himself. Miraculously Not wrecking the car in the process, even from the back seat. First he'd thrown up. Then just curled into himself somehow managing to fit his both legs onto the seat as he leaned back against the door. Then he just sat there shaking. Not letting anyone near him.  

    Even as disgust rolled in his stomach some broken part of him wanted that now. For there to just be.....nothing. He could do it. He could just drift off again, maybe never come back. The TV remote in his hand hit the wall and shattered. Now Natasha and Sam were both staring at him standing in the middle of the room - panting like an idiot.  _Fuck this. I'm not gettin on this merry go round tonight._ Buck grabbed his jacket off the wall. 

     "Where you going?" Sam asked. 

     "Out." 

     "Your not in a good place right now man." 

     "I'm fine." The door slammed.

    


End file.
